


Company

by TheIttyBitty



Series: Company [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comfort, Companions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fingerfucking, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Magic, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Scientist Castiel, Sex Worker Dean, Virgin Castiel, companion!dean, tea and comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIttyBitty/pseuds/TheIttyBitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a professional Companion, and Castiel needs some "company".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is a short fic, so I don't really get into it, but it's a little sci-fi, and a little fantasy.  
> Set in a pseudo-distant future, and also there's a little magic. 
> 
>  
> 
>  **GLOSSARY**  
>  (because i'm fancy pants and have to use fancy made up shit)
> 
> \- Companions are a little bit like escorts, but I'm basing them off of the [Companions from Firefly/Serenity](http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/Companion's_Guild). They are well-educated, trained, and well-respected.  
> \- "Silver-Blood" is the term for someone who has magic. They can be distinguished by silver markings that appear on the inside of their arms. Usually magic manifests at puberty, but occasionally it has to be forced out (by losing one's virginity). They are often in government, or other generally high-paying jobs. A Silver-Blood who already has a job will very often get a promotion when their power manifests. 
> 
> Other than that it's the general "vaguely sci-fi mumbo-jumbo". You know what I'm talking about. You can probably figure it out, but if i've been too vague and weird, let me know.

The Hiatos Companion Institute is a tall, bright building. Colorful advertisements adorn the chrome exterior, and the whole thing glows slightly, so that it's easy to find in the dark.

Castiel Collins stands outside the big glass doors in the daylight, feeling like he might vomit.

“Lets _go_ Castiel.” His uncle growls, pressing him forward with a hand to the middle of his back.

Castiel swallows nervously. “I mean- maybe if I just-”

“You're doing this _today_. You've put it off for long enough. Without your manifested power you're useless to me.”

Castiel closes his eyes for a moment, pressing down the hurt in his chest, and lets himself be pushed along.

Inside the lobby is cool and professional, with a clean layout and calm colors. As they make their way inside, they're intercepted by a dark-haired woman in a dark-blue dress. She has a chrome name tag pinned to one strap that says, “Lisa”.

“Good morning! Welcome to the Hiatos Companion Institute, my name is Lisa, how can I help you today?”

“We need to get this one popped.” Zachariah nods toward Castiel, who flushes with embarrassment.

Lisa's smile tightens into something a little more forced. “Sir, we don't encourage that sort of language here.”

Zachariah rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I don't suppose _you're_ for sale?” He asks with a leer.

“I am not a Companion, sir." She says tersely. "And our companions provide a service. None of them are “for sale”.”

Zachariah glowers. “None of this,” He snaps. “this condescending bullshit! I'm about to pay you good money to my nephew popped, you can't talk to me like this!”

Lisa takes a breath, visibly trying to calm herself. It's obvious she wants to say something to him, but she's reigning herself in.

“Why don't I take a moment to talk to your nephew and we'll work this out.” She says politely.

Zachariah sniffs haughtily and crosses his arms over his chest, but seems momentarily appeased.

“... _alone_.” Lisa clarifies.

“Fine.” Zachariah says to Castiel. “I'm going back to Crosswood. Ping me when you get done and I'll send a car.” He turns on his heel and stomps out, glaring at anyone in his way.

Lisa and Castiel both watch him go.

“I'm so sorry.” Castiel apologizes. “My uncle... he can be... difficult.”

“I was thinking “asshole”.” Lisa whispers conspiratorially, drawing a weak smile from the boy. She watches him for a moment before speaking again. “Why don't _you_ tell me what the situation is?”

Castiel draws in a breath, trying to calm his nerves, then lets it out. “I, um.” He looks down at his hands, folded in front of him. “I have the silver blood. And since I’m of age now, my uncle thinks it's time for my power to manifest.”

Lisa looks taken aback. “I believe that's your decision.” She says firmly.

Castiel shakes his head. “It's a complicated situation, but he's right. I _need_ to manifest. And since I- I don't have any prospects of my own, this is my only option.”

Lisa frowns thoughtfully for a moment, but then nods, pulling her large tablet out from under her arm. “Well then, i'll do my best to help you select the companion that's right for you.” She taps some buttons on her screen, pulling up a list of thumbnails with pictures of the companions. She taps a few of them and they turn gray.

“These probably wouldn't be good for your first time.” She mutters. She taps some different ones, and they turn gold. “Now, it's completely up to you, but _these_ would probably be best for you.” She hands him the tablet.

He takes it, and looks over the profiles nervously. This is difficult, and whoever he chooses... well... he's going to get fairly well acquainted with them. Eventually, he decides on a picture of a blond boy. There are more attractive companions, but this one has a warm smile, and Castiel likes the sound of his name. Dean. It's nice, sounds down to earth.

“How about this one?” He says to Lisa, pointing to the thumbnail.

“Hmm? Dean? You know, I think he'll be very good for you, actually.” She smiles at him. “If you want to sit down in our waiting area for a moment, I'll just ping him and i'll take you up in a few minutes.” She leads Castiel to a place in the corner of the lobby with a bunch of soft couches.

He waits there for about ten minutes, with he spends fiddling with his wrist comm, before she's back.

“Alright, he's ready for you, we can go on up.” She says happily.

He follows her to a bank of elevators, where they listen to tinny music as they go higher and higher into the building. They go all the way up to the fifth floor before the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Castiel steps out into the fall, but Lisa doesn't follow.

“It's just down there.” She points down the hall. “5C. Just knock and he'll let you in. Good luck!” She gives him a smile and a little wave, and then the elevator door slide closed and she's gone.

Castiel stands there by himself in the cold hall. He wraps his arms around himself to fight off a sudden chill. His first step toward the door feels significant, he's finally doing this. He's finally putting aside his fear and doing what he needs to do. He's still very, very nervous though, and each step he takes further is heavy and difficult in the silence of the hall.

He's standing in front of the door much too soon. It's just a door, no need to be afraid. Just a plain, white door. He raises his hand and hesitates for much too long before he knocks. When he does, the sound echoes loudly in the hall.

The door is opened mere moments later, swung open by a boy about his height.

“Uh. Hello.” Castiel says.

The boy smiles, big and toothy. “Hi.” He says. “You must be... Castiel?”

Castiel nods, ducking his head.

“Come on in.” Dean tells him, stepping back and holding the door open. “I'm Dean, which you probably know.”

Castiel follows him in, humming affirmation. Dean is wearing only a flowing silk robe that comes down to his knees and is tied loosely around his waist. He really is very handsome, blond hair sticking up everywhere, strong features, toned chest. It's a little intimidating.

“So, Lisa says this is your first time.” Dean says, sounding unbothered.

“Um, yes.” Castiel says shortly, looking around the room. It's a sitting room, couches and coffee tables and even a fire place. There are several doors leading off of it, and Castiel suspects that they lead into the rest of Dean's rooms.

“Is there anything special you want for your first time?” Dean wonders.

Castiel shakes his head. “I... I just want to get this over-with.” He admits. “No- no offense meant, I'm sure you're very good, but I want to get this done as quickly as possible.”

Dean looks at him thoughtfully. “This wasn't your idea, was it?” He's more perceptive than he looks.

“Ah, no.” Castiel affirms. “But- I mean, it needs to happen. I just- it's not something i've ever wanted and now-”

“Dude,” Dean takes a step toward him, brow creased with concern. “That's not cool, you can't let people push you into shit like this. We do _not_ have to do this.”

Castiel huffs a small, mirthless laugh. “That's very kind, but I- I do, actually. It's... it's a little complicated, but this is the only way...”

Dean frowns even further. “You in some kinda trouble?” He asks, professional demeanor long since gone.

“Trouble? No, no trouble. But, uh,” He considers it for a moment, before holding out his arms in front of him, wrists up, to show Dean the silver lines that run from his wrist to his elbow, down his tender inner-arms.

“Oh,” Dean breathes, coming closer. He starts to reach out, but then pulls back. “Can I?” He asks.

“Go ahead.” Castiel tells him.

Dean reaches out again, taking Castiel's hands in his own. He touches one of the silver lines gently with his thumb, and clicks his tongue. “So, you're like, important?” He asks after a moment, looking up at Castiel with wide green eyes.

“Meant to be, anyway.” Castiel admits. “Been sort of... putting it off.”

“You're _sure_ you're not in trouble.” Dean asks again, holding tight to Castiel's wrist.

“I'm sure.” Castiel assures him, touched by the concern this stranger is showing him. It's more concern than any of his own family have shown. “I'm just meant to take a Council position, and I can't until I’ve manifested.” He shrugs.

Dean looks shocked. “No shit? The Council? Didn't know I was entertaining a big-shot.” He grins.

“Not a big-shot.” Castiel huffs, pulling his hands away. “I have a long way to go.”

“Future big-shot, then. Man, I should'a dressed up, huh?”

Castiel smiles this time, his first genuine smile in probably weeks. “No, no. You look very nice.”

“Thanks.” Dean says, biting his bottom lip. “You don't look too bad yourself.”

Castiel looks down at himself. He's just wearing a suit, nothing special. “This is what I always wear.” He tells Dean.

“That is _exactly_ something a big-shot would say.” Dean points out.

Castiel lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“Ah, look at that.” Dean says, smiling. “You can laugh and everything.” He looks Castiel in the eye for a long moment. “You want some tea?”

Castiel nods. “That sounds nice.”

Dean goes through a door off to the right, which is apparently a kitchen, and Castiel sits down on the loveseat to wait for him. He comes back a minute later with two mugs of steaming tea. He sets them down on the coffee table. “It's chamomile. Careful, it's hot.” He sits down next to Castiel.

“So, Castiel.” Dean addresses him, grabbing his mug and leaning back into the couch. “What is it you do?”

“Um, bio-engineering.” He says. “Specifically in the human modification area.”

Dean whistles. “That sounds like a real blast.”

He's being sarcastic, but Castiel nods anyway. “It's very fascinating. We're currently developing a product that would essentially allow people to re-grow severed limbs. If it works, anyway.”

“You're a scientist?”

Castiel nods.

“Awesome.” He says, sounding sincere. He takes a sip of his tea. “What do you do for fun?”

“Well, um, I enjoy reading, hiking, bicycle riding. I've recently taken up rock climbing, that's been quite a bit of fun.”

“Rock climbing? Damn. I've always wanted to try that.”

“Have you?”

Dean nods.

“You should do it.” Castiel encourages him. “It's a lot of fun.”

“Well, a hot guy tells me to do it, I'm gonna do it.” Dean says.

Castiel looks away, feeling heat flood his cheeks, and Dean laughs.

“What? Like nobody tells you you're hot?”

“No.” Castiel says, a little confused, stomach swirling with nerves. “They don't.”

“Well, they should.” Dean says, seriously.

“Oh.” Castiel says. “Um. Thanks.”

Dean takes another drink from his tea, and then puts it down on the table before sitting up and leaning over into Castiel's space.

“Hey,” He says, reaching out to gently grasp Castiel's chin and turn the man's face toward him. “You're a good guy.”

Castiel scoffs, still refusing to meet his eye. “You don't know that.” He says.

“Call it instinct.” Dean says, leaning closer. “I have a feeling about you.”

Castiel wets his lips with his tongue, and breathes out. “A feeling?” He asks, voice small.

“I think you're gonna be great.” Dean tells him. “I think you're gonna do great things, and I think you're gonna help people.”

Castiel swallows the knot welling up in his throat. “You really think so?” His voice comes out wavery, almost pleading, and he's ashamed of it. He's so afraid of messing all of this up, his future.

Dean brushes his thumb along Castiel's bottom lip. “Yeah, I really do. I know I don't know you very well, but I think all you need a confidence boost.”

“I- I don't-” Castiel stutters.

“Yeah, you do.” Dean interrupts. “Somebody needs to tell you some good things. I bet you don't hear very many good things, do you?”

And this time, Castiel can't push his emotions back. A tear, then a second, spill out of his eyes and make tracks down his cheeks. “I'm sorry.” He says, starting to pull away.

Dean, having none of it, grabs his shoulder with his unoccupied hand and pulls him back. “Nothin' wrong with crying.” He says. “Anybody that tells you otherwise is an asshole. Okay?”

Castiel blinks hard a few times. “Okay.” He whispers.

“Now,” Dean moves his hand from Castiel's shoulder down to his hip. “are you gonna let me take care of you?”

He's a little confused by the word choice, but Castiel nods anyway.

Dean leans even closer, until Castiel can feel his breath on the corner of his mouth. “I'm gonna kiss you now, alright?”

“Alright.” Says Castiel.

Dean leans forward just a little more, and their lips brush. It's not much, a very gentle touch of one closed mouth against another, but it feels sweet. Dean pulls back then, looks at him for a moment, and kisses him again. He pulls Castiel closer, slipping a hand beneath his suit coat to press against his side through thinner fabric. He kisses him deeper, tongue touching Castiel's lip, delving into his mouth. It's still sweet, slow, gentle. It's exactly what Castiel didn't even realize he needed. He lets himself relax and lean against Dean, kiss him back, run a hand up into his hair.

After a while, Dean pulls back again. He looks at Castiel. “Why don't we go back to my bedroom?”

Castiel nods, stands, follows Dean through a door. Dean's bedroom is beautiful, with a huge canopy bed and a warm color scheme, but Castiel's anxiety is back full-force.

He has no idea what he's doing, what if he's bad at it? He's probably going to be bad at it, and then Dean will be disgusted with him. He won't even be able to do this one thing right.

“Hey.” Dean says, “You okay?”

Castiel nods and slips his suit jacket off, folding it neatly and setting it on a chair nearby. He's starts unbuttoning his shirt, but then Dean is sliding into his space and brushing his hands away.  
“Let me.” He murmurs, and he kisses Castiel again. His fingers move deftly over the buttons as his lips press against Castiel's. He's pushing the shirt off of his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor where Castiel is sure it's going to get wrinkled. He only has time to worry about it for a moment though, before his thoughts are otherwise occupied by Dean's hands on his belt, Dean's fingers undoing his fly, Dean pushing his pants and underwear down beneath his ass and then letting them fall to the floor.

“How do you want me?” Dean asks.

“I- uh. For- for this to work, you'll have to, um. You'll have to do the, uh, the... penetrating.”

“Alright.” Dean grins. “I can work with that.” He runs his fingers down the outside of Castiel's arms, trailing his eyes down the man's body. “Mmm,” He hums. “Yep. Not too shabby, Mr. bigshot.”

Castiel closes his eyes, wishing Dean wouldn't look at him. His words must be out of pity, because Castiel is very aware that he's extremely unimpressive. He's too pale from working indoors so much, his body is too soft, just a few of the many reasons why no one wants him.

“Don't.” He says, pulling away. “I don't want you to lie to me. That's not what I’m here for.”

“Hey,” Dean follows, reaching out to curl his hand around Castiel's palm. “I'm not a liar.”

Castiel says nothing, but Dean doesn't stop. “Hey, do you hear me?” His voice has taken on a sharp edge. “I'm not a liar. Do you think I am?”

Castiel opens his eyes and looks at Dean's furrowed brow and serious eyes. “No.” He whispers.

“Well, good.” Some of the fight goes out of Dean's eyes, he relaxes a little. “Glad we've got that cleared up. So when I tell you something, you'd better believe it's true, got it?”

“Okay.” Says Castiel.

Dean rubs Castiel's arms again. “C'mon, we've got to get you a little more relaxed or this is never going to work.” He gives a little tug on Castiel's wrist.

“How?” Castiel asks, a little wary.

“I'm going to give you a massage.” Dean says, proudly.

“A massage?”

“Yep. I give _great_ massages.” He leads Castiel to the bed. “Lay down on your front.”

Castiel does, despite the fact that he's extremely uncomfortable being exposed this way. Dean has made him feel better in this short time than he has in years and so, despite his better judgment, Castiel is starting to trust him. So he lays down in the middle of Dean's big bed, face down, ass exposed, and tries his best not to freak out.

He stiffens as the bed dips beside him, and he feels the brush of Dean's silk robe against his leg. Dean rummages in his bedside table for a moment, and there's the click of a bottle being opened, and something cool is drizzled on his back.

“Just relax.” Dean tells him, setting the bottle aside and moving closer to Castiel. “You're gonna like this, I promise.”

Castiel is not convinced, but he closes his eyes and ignores the nerves in his belly as Dean adjusts his position.

The first touch of the companion's fingers against the warm skin of Castiel's back is electric, and it makes him jolt a little, but Dean doesn't say anything about it. He presses into the muscles of Castiel's back, the ones that are bunched and knotted from years of stress and anxiety. He starts at the top, with the rigid cords of Castiel's shoulders, and moves down his arms, down his back. He skips over Castiel's ass (to both the man's relief and disappointment) and works on his legs. At his feet, Dean gives a little click of his tongue.

“You don't take care of your feet, do you?” He asks, voice disapproving.

“What?”

“Your feet.” Dean reiterates. “You don't take care of them.”

“I don't know what you mean.” Castiel admits.

“They're all dry and calloused.” Dean frowns. “I bet they hurt, don't they?”

“It's not really that- ah!” Castiel's thoughts are interrupted when Dean pulls one of his feet into his lap and starts rubbing it gently, because it does actually hurt quite a bit, and Dean is soothing it all away.

“That's what I thought.” Dean says haughtily. '  
“You're really _really_ good at this.” Castiel groans.

Dean doesn't reply, but presses into Castiel's heel harder. He continues on this way until Castiel is loose and relaxes, a puddle, so at ease that he's almost falling asleep. Then, slowly, he starts kissing Castiel's ankles. He moves up the man's calves, placing light, sweet kisses to the inside of Castiel's knees and up his thighs.

Castiel isn't even tense when Dean slides his hands up over the meaty globes of his ass, then follows quickly with his mouth. How can he be? All the tension and anxiety that he's built up over the years is gone. All of it. There's not a trace of it left, and Castiel can't even find it in himself to look for any. In fact, he's actually starting to get hard now. It may not seem like an impressive feat, but with all the stress he's had lately, he's been finding it harder and harder to become aroused.

Dean kneads his hands into Castiel's ass, kissing them all over, then pulls his cheeks apart.

“Can I kiss you here?” He asks, breath ghosting over Castiel's most intimate parts.

“Yeah.” Castiel chokes out, burying his red face in the blankets.

Dean leans in and presses his lips against Castiel's hole once, and again, and then his tongue is there instead. He flicks it against the taut muscle, skims it around the hot rim, drawing louder and louder noises from the man beneath him.

Castiel is bunching his hands in the blankets, biting down on his bottom lip as Dean flicks his tongue expertly against his core. Then he's pressing it in, breaching the muscles, fucking his tongue in and out of Castiel's hot channel.

In this moment, Castiel cannot think of a single thing better. In the whole world, there is nothing that compares to having Dean's tongue in his ass. This, what started out as a horrible, anxiety filled day, is now his favorite day. Better than his birthday. Better than Christmas. He's going to mark it on his calendar. The First Time Castiel Got Rimmed is going down in history as the best day of all time.

He's vaguely aware that he's making all sorts of horribly embarrassing sounds right now, but he can't find it in him to care even a little bit.

Then there's more, because Dean presses a finger in next to his tongue using the warm massage oil, and at first it feels weird, but then it feels good, and Dean is working him open.

“Fuck!” Castiel groans. “Oh, god. That feels good!”

“Yeah?” Comes Dean's slightly muffled, very smug sounding voice. “You like that, big-shot? You like my tongue?”

Castiel nods frantically into the pillow, not trusting himself to speak just yet, because Dean has just pushed a second finger into him. After a few more moments, though, Dean pulls back and slides his hands up to Castiel's hips.

“Why are you stopping?” Castiel asks, voice bordering on a whine.

“I have more to show you, sweetheart. Why don't you flip over?”

Castiel does, feeling slightly annoyed, but no longer self-conscious about his body in the least. Lying on his back his newly-erect cock is sticking up into the air, plainly visible.

“Oh boy.” Dean says, reaching out to give the length a stoke. “You're big.”

Dean leans down and gives the head a lick, collecting the pearls of pre-come that have gathered there. He curls his hand around the shaft and, at once, he starts to move his hand up and down, and he he sinks his mouth down over the length.

Definitely the best day in history.

Dean sucks cock lovingly; as if he loves doing it, loves the person, and also loves cock. He lets his eyes flutter shut and he _moans_ around it, in a way that should absolutely, 100% be illegal.

Somehow, even doing so many things at once already, Dean manages to get two fingers in Castiel's ass with his free hand. He _may_ be a super hero.

“Dean!” Castiel says, when he feels himself nearing the edge. “I- I'm close.”

Dean, to Castiel's absolute dismay, pulls off. Not that the string of spit and pre-come trailing from Dean's mouth to Castiel's cock isn't absolutely _gorgeous_ , but he wants that mouth back on him.

He kisses Castiel's lower stomach, nipping at the soft flesh underneath his belly-button. He kisses up Castiel's chest to his neck, where he settles in, sucking lovingly on the soft skin.

He slides his fingers back inside Castiel though, and his cock nudges against Castiel's thigh. “Ready?” He asks.

Castiel nods. “Yes.” He affirms. “I- I want- you.”

“Okay.” Dean hums, removing his fingers and lining himself up. “Take a deep breath. It's going to feel uncomfortable at first, but stick with it, okay?”

Castiel takes a deep breath, and he's glad for it, because having a cock inside him does hurt. It's not too bad, nothing he can't deal with, more of an over-fulness than a sharp pain. It just feels like a lot of stretching. It's enough, though, that his own erection starts to wane.

Dean goes slowly, gently, until he's fully seated, then stays still for a long time.

“Tell me when it's okay for me to move.” He says, nuzzling into the soft skin behind Castiel's ear.

It takes a few moments for the uncomfortable burn to recede, but Dean waits patiently until Castiel says,

“Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Dean moves slowly, and after a few more moments it doesn't feel bad anymore. In fact, there's a strange sensation in his veins, and it takes him a while to figure out what it is. It's magic, he realizes finally. His magic. It's being released, and he's feeling it for the very first time.

He's elated, and then Dean's cock brushes up against his prostate and he feels _good_ again. Better, in fact than he's felt in years. Not only is his erection back in full force, but he also feels _powerful_ , which is really more about the magic than the sex, but together they're magnificent.

He's panting and writhing as Dean moves over him, and he groans outright when Dean wraps a hand around his cock and begins to stroke along with his own thrusts.

He doesn't last long after that, coming with a grunt all over his stomach and Dean's hand. Dean thrusts a few more times before he still inside of Castiel, breathing heavy into his neck.

Dean pulls out of his slowly, but it still feels damn weird. He gives Castiel a soft smile before getting up and going to the bathroom, where he brushes his teeth and gets a damp wash-rag.

When he comes back, he sits next to Castiel on the bed and gently cleans off the man's stomach. Afterward he drops the rag in a basket and leans down to kiss Castiel on the mouth.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, brushing a bit of sweat-soaked hair from the other man's brow.

“Good.” Castiel says right away. “I can finally feel my magic. It feels really, really good.”

“What's it feel like?”

“Like...” Castiel casts about for an appropriate simile. “Electricity? I don't know, it's weird. I can feel it _buzzing_ , you know? It's strange.”

Dean looks down at him for a moment, then says, “Come sit with me.”

And how can Castiel say no? Dean finds his robe on the floor, discarded at a point Castiel can't really remember, and gets one for Castiel as well. They go back into the sitting room and sit together on the loveseat again. Dean seems to know exactly what Castiel needs, because as soon as he's situated he opens his arms for Castiel to snuggle in.

“You didn't drink your tea.” Dean remarks, looking sadly at the abandoned cup from earlier on the coffee table.

“Sorry.” Says Castiel.

“It happens.” Dean kisses his temple. “So, what will you do now that your magic has manifested?” He asks.

“Not much will change.” Castiel admits. “I'll take a council position, but I’ll still be doing basically the same work.” He wriggles a little, setting his head on Castiel's shoulder, looking at their bare legs tangled together over the couch. “I'll have more authority, more responsibility, and I’ll be getting a pretty substantial pay raise, but that's about it. Actually, I’ll have more authority than my uncle now.” He gives a delighted laugh.

“He an asshole?” Dean wonders.

“Very.”

“Well, then, good. I hope you use your new authority to make him squirm a little.”

Castiel turns his head to grin up at Dean. “Of course. That's what authority is for, isn’t it?”

“I can only assume.”

They lay there for a long while. They talk, then they watch television on a large tv that slides down from the ceiling over Dean's fireplace.

Castiel finally gets dressed when he realizes how late it's getting. His clothes are a bit wrinkled, despite his precautions, and he looks down at them with distaste.

“There's a back door.” Says Dean, coming up next to him. “So no one has to see your wrinkly suit.”

Castiel huffs a laugh, a little embarrassed about how transparent he apparently is. “Thank you.” He says.

Dean steps in front of him and adjusts his collar. “It's no problem.”

“No, I mean- for everything.” Castiel says insistently. “I- you just- you made this a really, really good experience for me, and I appreciate it.”

Dean tilts his head, looking at him curiously. “You're welcome.” He says after a moment. He takes a breath and then says, “Next time, you should call ahead. So you know I’m available.”

Castiel looks at him for a moment, really looks at him. He likes Dean, he likes him a lot, he realizes. “I'll do that.” He promises.

“I'll even give you a special price.”

“Why?”

Dean grins. “All my favorites get special prices.” He admits.

“I'm a favorite?” Castiel asks, heart thrumming unexpectedly, and not from nerves this time.

Dean nods, and Castiel can't help but lean forward and kiss him softly. It's the first kiss he's initiated, and it feels nice.

“I'll, um, I'll see you next time.” Castiel says, heading toward the door.

“See you later, big-shot.” Dean says, smiling.

There's a transaction screen right near the door that Castiel waves his wrist chip over, sending his uncle's money into Dean's bank account, then he waves to Dean, and he leaves.

It feels a little odd to be leaving, for some reason, but he just pings his uncle's driver and promises himself that he'll be back soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are the sun and water that keep me alive and growing, and if you leave any I will love you forever!
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://deanlightful.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Anyway I love you guys, thanks for reading!  
> Hugs,  
> -Grace


End file.
